Like Shattered Porcelain
by ToxicRainfall
Summary: Jem Carstairs has been in love with Sophie from the moment she came to work at the Institute. But with the life he leads and his rapidly extinguishing life, is it really fair for her to know? Jem X Sophie. Oneshot.


**~ Like Shattered Porcelain ~**

Jem X Sophie

Disclaimer: I do not own the Infernal Devices series.

**~X~**

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><p>I remember when she first came.<p>

She was fragile at first, the wound on her face still raw and jagged as though it had been inflicted on her just moments before, and though Charlotte kept an eye out for her, Sophie always managed to do her job unaided and to an excellent standard. I admired her for that.

Will was mocking at first, making vicious jokes about her ruined face behind her back, but I never responded. Never did I mock her with him, nor did I chastise him for his cruelty. I just observed, watching her delicate fingers as they folded sheets, and the intense concentration on her face that made a crease in her forehead, forcing the wound to fold in a way that I'd usually find grotesque if it hadn't been on _her._

I wasn't sure how long it took for me to realise that I found her beautiful. It did not matter to me that her once flawless features were slashed so obscenely, as it gave her a different kind of beauty. Her hair always seemed to shimmer in the light, almost as though it was the halo of an injured angel. Her eyes sparkled with their own splendour, and though no-one else saw it, her smile when she had accomplished a particularly difficult task seemed to light up the room she was in, and for a few moments, I felt like she was the only thing in the world.

I was always kind to her, providing the perfect balance from the harshness of Will and his cutting remarks. I'm not sure she even noticed that I took special care and attention to make sure she felt welcomed into the Institute, so that she wouldn't feel like an outsider in a world mostly dominated by Shadowhunters.

But then Tessa arrived, and Sophie seemed to glow with happiness of having another girl her age who actually treated her like a friend rather than a servant. I think I was the only one to notice the change in her. I was grateful to Tessa for that. But Will, as always, treated her with the same disdain, and I continued with my gentle words and thankful smiles.

There had been times when I thought I would tell her what I felt. Like the time when she was changing my bed sheets and I decided to help her. My fingers brushed against her's, and jolts shot through my veins, and I almost blurted it out, there and then. But the bashful look on her face reminded me that it was not my place to court her. She was, after all, a maid, and I was a Shadowhunter. It was not that I felt myself superior to her, but I did not want to drag her into a life where she would have to constantly worry whether I would live or die. She deserved more than that. She deserved strength, stability and consistency.

So I closed my mouth and promised myself I would never speak of it to no-one, especially not Will, who, despite his care for me, would likely spill my secrets. Not out of spite, of course, but through an accidental slip of the tongue. I would have hoped he would not betray my secrets in that way, but I didn't want to take chances.

And even if I did allow her to know of my feelings, who says she'll even return them? She would be wary of her employers' attentions, if her past was anything to go by. It was, as she so fearfully described shortly after her arrival, her old master who caused the scar on her lovely face. It was her refusal of his attentions that caused that mark, and I would never put her in a position like that myself. A position where she would fear for her safety again. I wanted her to feel safe, and she would never feel that with my love.

Yes, love. Because I loved her like I had never loved anyone before. She was an angel in my darkest days, and she would never know it. But it was best for her… Best for me, I suppose, if she never finds out.

For I am dying, and I don't know how much longer I have. The more I fight, the closer I am to death, both with the risks of being killed and with the demon venom that was slowly leeching away my life. It had already taken away the colour in my hair, eyes and skin, but soon enough, it will drain away my very soul. The very things that make me the person I am.

I will probably have everything drained away until I'm just an empty shell of my former self. I would never wish that on her… not her, my precious Sophie. She needs life, and love and light. Not darkness, death and hopelessness.

I love her, but I'll never be with her. Not unless- No, I know there is no cure for what is happening to me.

I will be alone, and I will be content with that.

For she is my one, mine only.

My angel with her face like shattered porcelain.


End file.
